Sharpwriters' Thoughts Blog Archives - Archives - July 2001 June 2002 July 2002 August 2002 September 2002 October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 June 2007 August 2007 September 2007 December 2007 March 2008 May 2008 July 2008 August 2008 April 2009 September 2009 October 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 June 2010 Current Posts Tuesday, July 19, 2005 Redefining me. I think I'm beginning to get REALLY excited about the wedding of Number One Son David and Desirée this Saturday. I got REALLY excited, but in a totally different way, with the wedding of Number Two Son Jeffrey and Samantha last March. In both I'm trying on and did try on new roles. I guess it sounds absurd to some people, but at 58 years of age, I'm about to go to the first wedding followed by a dance. You have to understand, I grew up in a small town where the receptions were in the basement of the church, and it was just a social gathering with cake and punch. In the intervening years I've gone to a couple I can think of that bordered on this kind of event, but none to match it. And absolutely none in which I was expected to dance with nobody dancing but my son the groom and me. I can easily stand and talk to a group of hundreds, but to dance???? Ouch! David has told me what music he chose for us to dance to, and I'm intrigued, mildly amused, and deeply honored that he felt it to be appropriate. He mentioned it and didn't tell the world, so I won't either. I went to City Nails yesterday where the business card says they give "Excellent Nails care Services" but it felt like they capitalized the care. I don't think they knew what to do with a middle aged woman who had never had a manicure, but they walked me through it. I had a middle aged MAN doing my nails, and he did an excellent job. He jabbered in his native oriental language and spoke to me in English when hand signals wouldn't work, and we got along fine. He painted them the color I told him to which matched the swatch of the dress I took with me. I felt as obvious all day yesterday as I ever felt when I painted my own nails. I thought everybody in the world would know I was a fraud, that bright fingernails isn't who I am. This morning I put on a red dress that also matches the nails, though I swear the one for the wedding is pink, not red..... I told myself aloud in the car that "Maybe it is me." I doubt I will convince myself, but maybe people won't pick me out as an imposter when I'm out in public. Maybe I'm not an imposter. Maybe this really is me. Interesting. Scary. Enough. Share | posted by Barbara Rollins @ 11:58 AM 0 Comments: Post a Comment Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] << Home